


Tristful

by failedfirebender



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Sukka, Taang - Freeform, Zutara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24690823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failedfirebender/pseuds/failedfirebender
Summary: Tristful: (adj.) deeply yet romantically melancholy_A compilation of my short Zutara AUs that have the objective of making everyone cry over how cute they are. Some are set in the Avatar reality, some others in the 50's and plenty of others in our current timeline, but who cares? It's Zutara.
Relationships: Aang & Toph Beifong, Aang & Toph Beifong & Katara & Sokka & Suki & Zuko, Aang/Toph Beifong, Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Suki (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 132





	1. Distance

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to make any REQUESTS you can leave them in the comment section or just tag me with it on Tumblr (@Failedfirebender) or Twitter (@Failedfirebend1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko has a question to ask, he's been thinking about it for what seems an eternity, too afraid of what Katara - his girlfriend - might answer. In the middle of the night, in his chambers, he realizes it can't wait anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Genre: Drama, Romance.  
> -Setting:  
> -Time: Six years after the end of the Hundred Year War  
> -Place: Fire Nation  
> -Words: 2482

# __________

# D I S T A N C E

**@failedfirebender**

Zuko approached Katara; it was late and she had fallen asleep reading on the couch. No, not reading, he realized; _writing_. The notebook was going up and down, over her chest. 

For the last year and a half, she’d been studying and collecting data of all kinds of healing. From traditional ways – including herbs and potions –, to bending ones, with the objective of putting it all together in a massive “healing encyclopedia”, as Zuko liked to call it. She was almost done with it, and had been pulling preoccupying all-nighters for the last week, excited by the view of the finish line. Even when her passion was one of the many things that’d made Zuko fall for her, he was trying to help her get it under control. It was not healthy when it took control of her like that. 

He woke her up tenderly, kneeling in front of her and brushing the stands of hair that had fallen over her face. Her nose frowned and a grumble left her mouth. The tips of his lips curled and a rough chuckle slid past his lips. It was _such_ a Katara thing to do. 

As she softly awakened, he took a hairband from her wrist, proceeding to stand and make his way behind her. With all the calm in the world, he accommodated her wild curls into a bun and tied it up. His hands fell to her shoulders, helping her sit up, and massaging them kindly. 

His girlfriend looked up at him and yawned, stretching her limbs as far as she could. Her hands reached up to the sides of his cheeks and squished them. 

“Oh, my hero!” She giggled, her voice still dormant and low. “You saved me from the terrible fate of a back contracture!” He knew she only got all touchy and silly when sleep deprived. If any other human dared touch him like that, he’d burn their hands off. But this was Katara, and thus, her childish behavior only made his grin wider. 

He kissed her forehead. 

“Let's get you to bed.” 

“No, no!” She whisper-shouted, shaking her head, “I am about to finish, just one more paragraph.” He raised an eyebrow. “Ok, ok maybe it’s another _chapter_ , but who cares?” 

“I do.” To these words, her sleepy eyes lit up. “Come on, you can finish tomorrow.” 

He’d been meaning to talk to her forever. But between his duty as Fire Lord and the encyclopedia project, time had been a luxury they couldn’t afford. Which was good- kind of. Zuko had had more than enough time to think exactly of what he wanted to say, and practice it eternally looking at himself in the mirror. Not that he did, of course. Anyways – and just like he suspected –, all the practice in the world made him feel no closer to confident now the time came. 

Perhaps it was the timing. After all, four in the morning was not the best moment to have the conversation that had been haunting him the last two months. Maybe he shouldn’t... But he couldn’t back down now. He knew that if he did, the courage he’d been gathering would be lost for good. 

His fingers sunk deeper into her muscles, tracing calming circles and she sighed. But before he could tell, she was pulling away. 

“I know...” a yawn interrupted her words, her hand covering her mouth. She was terribly adorable. “...your tricks, and I won’t fall for them.” She crossed her arms over her chest and shot him what was supposed to be a death glare over her shoulder. 

He repressed a laugh, knowing it wouldn’t help his cause, and instead lead his hands back to her nape. This time, she didn’t move. 

“How is this fair?” he mocked, “The one time she visits, I have to beg my girlfriend for attention.” 

Katara, who now had her notebook open over her crossed legs, tilted her head back; her features tainted with guilt. 

“I know, I know... I’ve been travelling a lot, but as soon as I finish the book, I’ll settle back in the Water Tribe and we’ll see each other more often.” 

The thing was, Zuko’s plans did not include a long-distance relationship. 

“The book can wait a few more hours.” 

“And you can’t?” Katara’s words were meant to be a joke, a playful smirk was plastered on her face, yet Zuko’s reply was overwhelmingly honest. 

“I think I’ve waited long enough.” 

Just like that, the waterbender tensed under his touch. With cautioned movements, she placed the book in the small table in front of her and stood up. They looked into each other’s eyes with the couch between them. Katara’s eyes flickered with fear, no trace of the previous sleepiness on her face. Zuko, instead, wondered what he did to deserve the love of such a beautiful creature. 

“What’s wrong?” her voice quavered with concern. She knew him too well, how did he even expect her not to realize something was up? 

He extended his arm over the couch – her hand grabbed his with hesitation – and led her around the piece of furniture and to his side. Unable to hold back his impulses, he tugged her in, trapping her in his arms. A surprised shriek was suffocated half way out her mouth, as their bodies collided and she melted into him. 

They’d been together for four years, and she still had the perfume of fresh winter breeze impregnated in her hair. She still had the same freezing touch that drove him crazy, the same stubbornness and capability of arguing till death, the desperate need to help others and make this world better. He’d never get tired of loving her. 

He squeezed her tight once more before letting go, and looked down to her eyes. When moonlight hit them in just the right angle, like it was doing now, their oceans seemed to shine like mercury had been melted in them, like the silver light of a thousand stars was held within. 

His hand traced his way down the length of her arm and his fingers intertwined with hers. Katara’s worried frown relaxed as she realized the tips of his lips were struggling to contain a smile. 

In that same silence, overflowed with both questions and expectations, Zuko guided them both to the bed in the center of the room. He sat over it with his legs crossed and invited Katara to do the same. 

“I am getting really scared over here. What’s going on?” she said, fidgeting with his fingers, “I won’t do anything until you say something.” He shook his head no and chuckled, uncapable of forming any coherent sentence. His eyes went from the girl, to the bed, and back, insisting. 

Few were the times he’d been as nervous as he was at that moment. He could feel his caged heart bouncing against his ribs, desperate to come out and fall into Katara’s hands. It was a tired heart, beaten up and somehow strong enough to love harder every day. Zuko hated it when she was away, his heart so passive, his head so cold and calculative. No one had ever turned his world upside down the way Katara did, and he cherished every second of it. 

Once she was in front of him, he let go of her hand. 

“Say something. Anything.” She begged. “You’ve been weird ever since I got here, you think I didn’t realize?” Her eyes were determined, but also flooded with worry. 

He brushed the palms of his hands anxiously against his knees, not finding a good answer for any of the things that she’d said. He was feeling something he thought long lost; his blood boiling as it sprinted through his veins, his temperature way higher than usual, his cheeks blushing and his lips stuck in a smile. He hadn’t felt this nervous around Katara in a really long time. Their first couple months dating made him feel just like that; uneasy, scared to ruin it all by being the confused little boy he was. But he was a man now, and the woman in front of him was no longer a child. They’d both grown, and they’d done it right next to each other. 

“You do know the first time we met I thought you were pretty?” 

Katara’s eyes widened. 

“This is what you wanted to talk to me about? I mean I’m glad to-” 

“No, no,” he calmed her down, rising his palms. “Let me finish.” He took a deep breath, barely believing this was the real deal, not himself repeating the words over and over in front of the mirror. “You were just this pretty girl that was making my life impossible by pairing up with the Avatar. You always found a way to mess up my plans. Damn, till today I remember how I hated you after our fight in the Northern Water Tribe.” The memory made them both smile. They’d come so far from where they started. 

“To be fair, you kind of wan the spar.” 

“But you _did_ save Aang in the end... and you saved me, too.” He swallowed. “You could’ve left me there to die, but you made sure I was safe. At that time... I don’t know if I would’ve done the same.” Zuko could see the engines in her head turning like crazy. They’d been over the events of that night plenty of times and of course, she had no idea of where he was trying to get. “Then there was that day in which we all team up against Azula, remember?” She nodded, patiently, “And my uncle...” the memory made him shiver “When my sister hit him you tried to help me, but I pushed you away. Back in those days, I knew nothing better than fighting alone.” An apology was written in his eyes. “And the catacombs... it’s true, you know? What you said.” 

“I mean most of the things I say are, but specifically about what?” The waterbender continued to look completely puzzled. 

Zuko bit his lip to repress his laugh. “Show off,” he accused her. 

Katara shrugged and the hint of a smile appeared on her face. 

“You told me a long time ago that you were the first one to trust me, and still, I betrayed you.” They were long past that, but Katara’s smile flickered. He knew how hard it had been on her to watch him pair with Azula after... well, after everything. “And you were talking about the guys, but you were the first one to trust me _ever_. Besides my uncle, no one had ever seen anything worth saving within me, anything worth healing... not even myself.” His hand had drifted to his scar, and Katara reached out to it, cupping it in her own. His eyes closed and he leaned towards her touch. “I’ll never ever forgive myself for that day-” She opened her mouth to speak, but he gave her that look that said ‘I’ve been putting my guts together the last two days to say this so please don’t interrupt’, and she shut it. “Not even knowing you did. And last, there was Azula’s Agni Kai.” 

There was a pause after those words. Even when the scars that marked his skin healed, the ones in his soul hadn’t completely. Katara took his hand between both of hers and left an encouraging kiss over it. 

“I think even when I didn’t realize it back then, I already loved you.” To these words, that had never been spoken before, a million feelings shadowed Katara’s features. “I’ve spent all this time loving you and I can’t do it anymore, not like this.” The grip of her fingers loosened around his hands, and when his eyes met hers, the life seemed to have been ripped out of them. Still, he didn’t let go of her. “I am tired of missing you every single day, tired of waiting for your letters, not knowing if you are ok... I can’t do that anymore.” With every word, her eyes watered up, and he forgot completely about the other one hundred things he wanted to say. He just couldn’t bare it any more. “Move in with me. Come live here, in the Fire Nation, in the palace, with me.” 

The words fell out of his mouth gracelessly, way too fast and tipsy, not at all like he’d wanted them to. But it was done, and deafening expectation was now overflowing his body. The feeling was erratic, his every cell on edge, like he’d just shot a question way more dangerous than lightning. Katara’s state couldn’t be described with any other word but shock. Her eyes were about to fall from her face, her lips were parted and, except for one sneaky tear sliding down her cheek, she remained impossibly still. 

And then, just when Zuko was about to apologize and take it all back for rushing things, his girlfriend’s hand struck him across the face with strength worthy of a Master waterbender. His hand flew to his cheek as he turned to her in disbelief. 

“That’s for making me believe you were breaking up with me!” Her chest was going up and down agitated, another tear fell from her left eye. 

Zuko was in absolute shock. He hadn’t realized his words could be interpreted that way. Why did he always have to screw everything up? Couldn’t he be a romantic average boyfriend for once? The moment he opened his mouth to try and fix the mess he’d made, her lips met his. 

It was an urgent kiss, fiery and passionate, that made him fall back on the bed, Katara over him. His hands dug deep into her hair and pulled back, the messy curls being freed and falling like an endless river behind her. He loved her, spirits he loved her so much the feelings could barely be held within his body, it was as if though they were trying to escape through every touch, through the bridge between their lips. 

Her hands were tangled in his mane and he took the opportunity to shift them, trapping her between him and the bed. Their lips finally separated, but as for the rest of their bodies, he couldn’t say the same. 

“And what...” he was completely out of breath, his shaken words got mixed with Katara’s minted breath. Their eyes collided, burning amber against ocean blue. Hers glowed like beacons in the darkest night. “What was that for?” 

“That?” a smirk took over her face “That was for all the rest.” 

This time, he was the one to close the distance that held them apart. They had had more than enough distance for a lifetime, and from now on, he’d make sure to make up for every second of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... first au! Any thoughts/constructive criticizm are always welcome <3  
> _____________________


	2. Sad Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara's family travels every year to the Fire Nation, where they are greeted by the Fire Lord and his family, in a castle as big as anythig she has ever seen. But this time, Sokka couldn't come along, and she was in charge of entertaining the young Fire Lord Zuko with her company.  
> In the most unexpected moment, their parent's plan is discovered, and the friendship they've built is threatened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Setting:  
> -Time: he Hundred Year War never happened, Zuko and Katara are eight and eleven years old  
> -Place: Fire Nation - Fire Lord's Palace  
> -Words: 4809

# __________

# S A D P R I N C E

 **@failedfirebender**

I looked up at Dad and frowned, wanting him to take us back. I hated these visits to the Fire Nation. They took forever and when we arrived, it was always too hot and too red. 

Everything was red. From the outside of the Fire Lord’s castle to the inside of every room, every piece of furniture, every robe and every pair of shoes. It was too much red, almost an aggressive amount. I didn’t like it. In fact, I hated it, and it was because it reminded me of a particular person. 

The same age as Sokka, the young Prince and him just loved to pair up and prank me. They’d take my books, pull from my hair loopsies and call me names. Zuko was a bad influence on Sokka, and I’d made it clear to mom and dad. Of course, none of them really took me seriously. I was just eight-year-old Katara and I had no idea about grown-up matters. 

I’d like it if they heard me every once in a while. If Sokka had, he’d probably be by my side now, and not back at home with a broken arm. I told him he was going to get hurt chasing the penguins between the slippery iceberg peeks, and guess what? I was right. I laughed when he fell, but the moment he started crying, I run to him, with the same recklessness he’d shown chasing the penguins through the ice, falling to my knees to check on the wound. We walked the long way home with his complains and my scowling. 

Now, he hadn’t been able to come, and I was supposed to entertain Prince Zuko. I was Glad that at least his little sister wouldn’t be here. Azula had been studying in the Earth Kingdom for the last three years and I didn’t remember her much. Only that she wasn’t mischievous, like her brother, she was just mean. She didn't want to _laugh_ , she wanted to make _me_ cry, and when she achieved it, she’d go on and on until she got bored and passed on to another victim. Sokka and Zuko rarely made me cry, and they always apologized immediately and made up for it, even when they did it with frowns on their faces and calling me a crying baby. 

“Fire Lord Ozai,” my father bowed and both my mother and I imitated him. “We are honored to be in your court.” 

He spoke for all of us, but he spoke not the truth. 

I always heard my father complain about how evil Ozai was. He called the Fire Lord a monster, a treacherous villain and a heartless man, whenever he thought Sokka and I were to bussy to hear his conversations with mom. 

The Fire Lady, Ursa, was no were to be seen, but the Prince walked right behind him, his skinny legs and a thin slide of his skinny right arm were all I could see of him. 

“Prince Zuko,” Ozai’s voice was like thunder, scarier than platypus bears. “Step forward and say hello to our guests.” 

He obeyed. I noticed he’d grown since the last time I saw him – a year ago – and was now taller than me. And I would’ve been angry about it, if it weren’t because I also noticed his sad features grow even sadder when he couldn’t spot Sokka between us. His eyes met mine and he instantly looked down at the floor. A few strands of dark hair fell of his bun with the fast movement, but I still saw his face blush. For the first time, I asked myself if perhaps, he was no more than a shy boy who had no idea of how to talk to a girl. 

The Prince bowed gracefully, despite his obvious wearisomeness. 

“Show some respect for the chief’s daughter, Prince Zuko.” That was another thing I found incredibly unsettling about the Fire Lord, he treated his children so coldly it made me think his heart belonged to the freezing glaciers back home. “Kiss her hand.” 

That was new. The prince and I shared a surprised look, both of our faces burning, before we looked away. The only difference was that he stepped forward as ordered and I looked up at Mom, who held my hand. She gave me an encouraging smile with a squeeze before letting go, placing it behind my back to push me forwards with a calming gesture. Mom thought it was ok. It was safe. Even when nothing felt safe around the Fire Lord’s judging presence. 

I stumped and almost fell in front of the Prince, but managed to get it together and stand straight. 

“I don’t have all day.” The thunderous voice rushed us. It made my bones tremble. And I could guess the prince felt the same rush of fear run up his spine, maybe even worse, because he quickly reached for my hand, taking it to his lips before quickly letting go. I pulled way and crossed my arms over my chest, cleaning the back of my hand against my sleeve. He brushed his mouth with his forearm and copied my pose. Our eyes sparkling in battle. No one talked, I knew they had, for whatever the reason, their eyes glued to us. I wasn’t looking away nor blinking. I didn’t like to lose, and I never did in a staring fight. 

Zuko’s eyes were wide and narrow at the same time, almond both in shape and color. They were as annoying and stubborn as always, but they had bags under them I'd never seen before. His features were somehow... pointier? Someone had removed his chubby cheeks and replaced them with delicate cheekbones. He still looked annoying. And he was evidently still a loser, because he looked down muttering something undecipherable and running back to the Fire Lord’s side, leaving two meters between them. 

As we were led inside, I held my mother’s elegant fingers, but my eyes never left the sad Prince. 

~ 

Before dinner time, we were already settled in our rooms. Moms and Dad’s was right next to mine, and on the other side was Zuko’s. I knew because I had been hearing him spar on his own for a whole hour. He wasn’t letting me concentrate on the book, so I jumped out of the bed, leaving my completely black edition of _Love Amongst the Dragons_ carefully over my nightstand, and stomped my way to my neighbor's door. 

I knocked three times, one hit falling quickly after the other, just to let him know whoever was on the other side of the door was angry. Noises, drawers being closed and opened and a few minutes passed by before he opened up. His robe was a disaster, and the knot that tied it was so sloppily done I felt the urge to reprehend him for it. Why did boys always had to be so chaotic? 

I peeped over his shoulder to the inside of his chambers, surprised by having my hypothesis proved incorrect. The eleven-year-old had his room perfectly neat, not a thing out of place except for a wooden sable over his wrinkled bed. This made me angrier. I was never wrong. 

“What do you want? And stop looking into my room, stalker.” He stepped right in front of me, blocking my view. Now he was taller, my eyes collided with his shoulders. I sighed as in this conversation was the most boring thing on the Four Kingdoms. Mom always said that made Dad mad, because there was no possible reply. 

“Would you mind lowering the volume while you play swordfight, Fire Prince?” The title fell like a mockery from my lips, even when I wasn’t intending it to. 

His face shifted from annoyed to arrogant. “I am not ‘playing’”, he drew the quotation marks in the air with his fingers, “I am _training_. You wouldn’t understand.” 

I raised an eyebrow; the gesture made his own pair of eyebrows rise in surprise. I’d only recently learned how to do it, and I was glad he seemed taken off guard by it. I practiced a lot to get the disdain in it just it right like the character of my book. 

“You train jumping in your bed? That’s disappointingly unprofessional.” 

He looked behind him, were the messy bed proved me right. His mouth opened and closed a few times like he was some brainless fish before words managed to come out of it. 

“And what would _you_ know about training?” 

I bit my tongue, not wanting to reveal my little secret. I had told Sokka not to write Zuko about my recently-discovered waterbending. I wanted to surprise them and use it to take revenge when they bothered me, and even with Sokka absent, the plan was still on its feet. 

The Fire Prince smirked, something I'd never seen him do. He smirked like the heroes in my books, and I noticed he had a really nice smile _for a bad guy_. He was no hero. 

Without waiting for me to move and with his victorious gesture still plastered in his face, he stepped back and slammed the door on my face. If it weren’t for a few inches, it would’ve broken my nose. 

A scared shriek left my throat, followed by a frustrated one. Prince Zuko’s laugh emerged from the other side of the door. 

~ 

The next three days went by, and for whatever the reason, Mom and Dad were as insistent as ever on me spending time with the arrogant Prince. 

Even when most of the time he was finding a way to annoy the living hell out of me, I discovered he did in fact, have a brain. Or something like it. 

One of those times we were in the library. He was sitting in a couch on the opposite side of the room reading a history book titled “ _Chin the Conqueror and the Death of an Empire_ ”, an ocean of old-days-scented air was settled between us. I liked it when he was silent, it made him tolerable. Too bad it never lasted long. 

He closed the book and stretched, his sleepy eyes falling over me. “What are you reading?” 

I peeked at him over the book, searching for the catch. “ _Love Amongst_ _The_ _Dragons_.” 

“For real?” He sounded truly shocked “That book is written in the most complex dialect ever; I could never get past chapter five.” To these words, I lowered the book, leaving it open over my crossed legs. He was horizontally sat, his arm over one of the couches' armrest, head over hand, his legs hanging from the other. “Don’t look at me like that. I do know how to read, you know?” 

“I do now,” I hesitate for a moment, not knowing if I should say it or not. “You should finish it though; the ending is really nice.” 

He smiled. It was the first time I saw him do that. Really smile, his teeth showing – white and perfect, except for one of the canines that was a little bit in front of the rest – with no mischievousness and no ill intentions. Just a boy smiling. It bothered me that I thought he was pretty. Boys were not pretty. They were boys. Ugly, bad smelling, brainless boys. 

I hid my reddened cheeks behind the book, pretending to read. 

“You mean you already read it once?” 

I nodded, and then realized he couldn’t see me. “Yes. At the beginning of the year.” 

Through the side of the book, I saw him shift positions, his eyes had left me and were now in the roof, hands behind his head and legs crossed still over the armrest. I put the book down. It was so wired to not be attacked by his acid tongue that it made my every cell vibrate with precaution. 

He shrugged, “I already know the ending.” 

“Somebody spoiled it to you?” I asked frowning. The only thing worse than spoilers sere the people that made them. He chuckled in response and I slowly begun to let my guard down. 

“Nah. My Mom used to take me to see a terrible group of actors perform the play every year.” He explained. “I’d like to see the original version of the story though; the play was too bad and I think the details got lost.” 

I was surprised to know he cared not only about details, but about details in books. Who was the boy in front of me and what had he done with the childish prince that was picking on me a few hours earlier for having shoved too many cookies into my mouth? 

A faint “Yeah” was all that managed to leave my mouth. And just like that, he reopened his book and I dug back into mine. This time the silence didn’t feel vast and cold, but a little more comfortable and warm to the touch. 

~ 

The next days we continued with this newly found routine; we’d mess around with each other but suddenly, a short nice conversation would get filtered with the screaming and nicknames, like sunlight breaking through a gray sky. 

The only reason for which I complained about being sent away with the prince every morning was to keep appearances. And also, because at those early hours he seemed too tired, not even strong enough to bother me. The milky skin under his eyes stained with deep violet semicircles seemed notoriously grayer. 

I suspected he had nightmares. Some nights before, I woke up in the middle of the night, uncappable of sleeping myself, and heard murmurs coming from the other side of the wall. When I leaned, pressing my ear against it, I heard him talking to himself. He called for his mom, and then a jillion of incoherencies followed. I didn’t sleep that night, unsure of what to do and wondering if Sokka knew about it. 

Still, we didn’t talk about that. He’d constantly asked about _Love Amongst the Dragons_ , though, and I’d retell him the last of my reading, slowly narrating the story with all de details I could. He listened carefully until I was finished and then he made some comment that made me angry or was just stupid and the fight started all over again. 

~ 

That morning, Zuko seemed to be in a particularly good mood, and I knew he had a good night sleep. I’d grown into the habit of waking up a couple times a night to check on him through the thin walls. The previous night had been silent and peaceful. I, too, slept better than usual, dreaming of building ice castles with the prince, Sokka and our other friends back at the village. 

“Can we skip breakfast today?” I asked holding my belly. “I am still full from yesterday.” 

It was not a lie. The night before, the dark-haired boy and I had sacked the kitchen’s storerooms and filled our pockets with stolen candy. Later we’d shoved them down our throats in the library, between laughter and fights along the lines of “Hey it was not your turn to eat!” and “You’ll get fat if you eat that one, give it to me!”. But the truth was that during breakfasts, I felt observed like a caged animal. Eyes over me as if though they were expecting something form me, their weight heavier whenever I spoke to the Prince. I guessed he felt the same, because he behaved impossibly distant while we eat in silence, allowing the grownups to make the conversation. 

The left corner of his smile curled in that gesture I already knew meant trouble. Golden sunlight slipped through the wide windows that took the walls from the floor to the ceiling, the red velvet curtains rocked by the early summer breeze that was allowed in. There was not a cloud in the sky and everything indicated a great day ahead. I smiled with him. 

Next thing I knew, we were running up the stairs, me a few meters behind, even though I knew he could go much faster and leave me to get lost in the labyrinthic palace. 

It was nothing at all like the modest tents and icy constructions at home. Dad said the Fire Nation royalty was ostentatious and that it was in their costumes to show their power through things that lacked real value, such as money and excesses, balls and golden robes. But Zuko was nothing like that, even though I used to think he was. His room only had a framed painting of his mother that he kept by his bed, a few piles of books he wanted to read neatly stacked over his desk – he said he’d lose them in the gigantic library if he didn’t separate them – and he always wore the same two robes, even when I'd seen him dig inside his wardrobe once and saw enough fancy outfits to dress the whole nation’s royalty 

We dodged guards, hiding in rooms and coming out once they were gone, we jumped and slid through the polished marble floors, screaming, filled with life, until Zuko stuck out an arm to his side, stopping one of my greatest slides so far. 

“Hey-!” I started my complain, but his finger quickly went to his lips silencing me as his free hand took me by the arm and pulled me through some curtains. 

The curtains were doors, and they lead to the inside of a monstrously big room I could barely glimpse at before being dragged behind another set of curtains that run across the wall. No, I realized, they were not curtains, but tapestries. He silenced me, using the same gesture he did before and invited me to spy from the side of the tapestry. I wondered how many times he’d done that same thing, maybe even with Sokka, and liked to think he saw me as one of the big kids. 

When I poked my eyes through the groove between the clothes. My heart gave a swirl. We were in one of the many rooms of the palace I'd never been to, but I still knew. It was the throne room and it looked just like history books described it. 

Ozai, with his eternally long beard, pompous robes and jewelry, was sitting in an altar, orange flames like hungry whips rose behind him, his seat was right in the middle against the back wall. A dozen pillars of red marble held the floor above us at each side of him, and in the middle, sitting crossed legged in the floor, was a committee. My parents, sat right next to each other among it. 

Their voices were low, we were too far away and I had to make the hardest effort to understand what they said, the echoes returned by the thumping room making the task even more complicated. They were talking about unity and peace, something related to odor? No. Honor. Honor and laces. Extensions and new beginnings. 

“What is going on?” I asked Zuko, my eyes still stuck on Mom. She was whispering something in Dad’s ear, they were not the only two in there dressed in blue. Another two women were with them. The four of them confronted with another foursome of Fire Nation royals. 

“I have no idea,” he whispered back, his head peeking over mine. “I heard they were having a ‘really important meeting’ and I wanted to know what it was about.” 

We remained silent for a few more minutes, but even when his gaze was on the committee, mine was analyzing him. Such a strange prince, so different from the one I thought I knew. 

In the dim light of the fire that licked us in our hiding spot in the shadows, the prince looked suddenly more serious than I ever saw him, even older. He understood what they were saying, and he didn’t like it. A frown was fixed between his eyebrows and his teeth clearly pressed against each other with too much strength for it to be healthy. 

“You are going to get hurt,” I glared at him, but he completely ignored me. 

“We need to leave.” 

“What? Why?” My interest for whatever was going on was dangerously renewed by his urgency to get away from it, and I tried to take another look at it, but he had already taken me by my wrist and dragged me nimbly out of there. 

A blink later, we were back in the hall, running away as fast as we could. I had no idea of why he’d gotten such a sudden desire to drive us away, but the odds for the perfect day vanished as I looked up to his face; the sad prince, someone I hadn’t seen since our arrival, was back. 

~ 

We sat next to the turtle-duck pond, sheltered from the midday sun by the old oak’s shade, but unlike the last time we were here, shouting and screaming, silence hoovered upon us like a bad omen. 

“What-” 

“Tell me the ending,” he interrupted me. “I saw the finished book over your nightstand this morning.” 

I was weirded out by his sudden desperation to hear the ending of a story he already knew, but I didn’t question him, scared by his sudden paleness and lost eyes. Instead, I went over the pages I had read the previous night with all the precision I could. I told the story of the two warriors and lovers who turned into dragons to hide their forbidden love, so that they could live forever in peace, diving through the skies and wondering the unknown lands of midnight stars. I told him about the hundred years that lasted the war and how the balance of the universe was destroyed, but also about how the two dragons restored it by ending the king’s army, not a soldier was left on its feet. I told him about how the wicked king died bitter and lonely in the throne, having lost the one he loved because of his own lack of judgement. By the time I was done, two tiny thrushes had approached us with curious fear and an hour had gone by. 

Zuko’s amber eyes were on me, and even though sadness remained, something else glimmered within them. I looked away and approached the little pigeons with cautious movements. 

Expecting both to surprise my friend and to gain the birdie’s trust, I concentrated on the water by our side, pulling out a thin whip of water out of it. It had been so hard to learn that simple movement, that little control over the element; it took me months of training. Zuko gasped, making the birdie jump back, startled. I shot the dark-haired boy a warning look, but inside I was dancing, drunk in the invigorating satisfaction it brought me to catch him with his guard down. 

The whip slithered through the air in a hypnotic dance, following my finger’s orders. Nor Zuko or the two little birds could take their eyes of it. Once it was close enough, I shaped it into a droplet the size of a large coin, allowing it to levitate right in front of the feathered animal. 

Even though it was hesitant at the beginning, if eventually drunk the water peacefully, singing happily once there was none left. I repeated my actions with the second one, and soon enough, both creatures were jumping confidently around us. 

I felt Zuko’s gaze follow me as I tricked one of them into jumping into my hand, using another water droplet as bait. 

“Want to hold Kan?” I asked to the Prince with a smile and extending my arms in his direction. 

Finally, a smile cracked his cement mask, teeth showing and all, but he shook his head no. 

“I wouldn’t want to kill your new pet.” 

“Oh, come on!” I said as encouragingly as I could, kneeling and dragging my knees towards him, ignoring the muddy mess my robe would turn into. I settled by his side and shot a glance at his hands that rested over his crossed legs. “Hold them together, and I'll leave Kan in them. You’d need to do nothing.” 

After double checking for approval in my eyes, he did as I said and I placed the bird between his fingers. 

Before he could say anything, I grabbed the second one. “This one is called Chin”, I said proudly, making him crack into a laugh that agitated the birds. He instantly lowered the volume, his finger grazing the little animal’s head to calm him down. 

“You should read the book before naming him like that.” He replied. I shot him a puzzled look and he chuckled again. It was a strange image, to see someone smiling with so many shadows darkening their eyes. I wanted to lean closer and look into them, get to know the secrets hidden within their honey irises. “He dies at the end. Killed by Avatar Kyoshi.” 

I scoff. “Avatars don’t kill. Everybody knows that.” 

“And everybody knows there are no waterbenders left in the Southern Water Tribe,” he replies cunningly, “guess _everybody_ doesn’t know _everything_.” 

“I wanted to use it against you as a surprise resource if you and Sokka ever bothered me,” I admitted, gracing the little orange creature with the back of mu index from its head to it’s tail. “But I like to think I won’t need to do that anymore.” Saying it out loud made my cheeks burn red, but I didn’t hate it anymore. Red was a nice color now, because it reminded me of my friend. 

The tips of his lips twisted as he tried to hide a smile. “I don’t think you will.” His confirmation made me smile too. And for a second, we said nothing, both focused on the animals that sung in our hands. Chin had managed to stand on my finger to give us a concert. When he finished, Zuko took back the word. “Did you hear what our parents were saying back there?” 

I shook my head, distracted by the warmth and softness of its feathers. “Not really.” 

“They were planning our futures.” He said the words looking at his empty hands. Kan now flew near the top of the tree with his brother. I tilted my head, not understanding. 

“They are parents, their job is to plan and ours to ruin the plans.” 

He cackled. 

“You talk like a grandma.” 

I shrugged, ignoring the mockery, “It’s a quote from a book, I don’t remember which. What do you mean with our futures?” Curiosity had been ignited in the pit of my stomach; it was the same feeling I got whenever I started a good book, and I knew it wouldn’t go away until it was finished. 

“You know...” suddenly his face turned into a strawberry and his eyes wondered from his hands, to the tree, to the grass, to Chin and Kan, but never to me. The sudden wave of shyness struck me too for some unknow reason. “They want to forge alliances, help each other.” 

“The futures of our nations, you mean?” I guessed. 

“Sealed by marriage.” 

And then realization shook me awake and my eyes widened. 

“We can’t allow that to happen!” I cry. All the time we’d been spending together, not bringing Sokka here for a mere broken arm, all the fancy dinners for which I was dressed up and sat next to the young Fire Prince. It was all a scheme. 

“The deal is sealed.” He was sad too, deeply sad and sorry. I didn’t like that. I didn’t like anything that was going on. 

“How would you know?” I snapped. 

He scoffed like it was obvious. “I’ve been trained to be Fire Lord since before I was born. I think I already know how to identify a treatment being sealed in front of my eyes. Thank you for the vote of confidence.” When he said this, he rolled his eyes, and then looked into mine. 

“We’ll stay friends.” This is a promise I make, not vague words that will be lost in the air. “We will be friends and we’ll stop them from ruining our friendship.” 

He smiled and held his hand to me; I shook it to seal the deal. Both of us smiled now, and he was still sad, I could tell. But at least a little bit of that pain had gone away now. 

We both looked up at Kan and Chin, flying over the pond and disappearing into the sky. The breeze made the leaves over us whoosh and the pond’s mirror-like water crack into waves. 

I liked red now, I like it a lot, I thought with a smile blossoming in my face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second AU here! This was a request inspired on a fan art that i recieved via tumblr. I really enjoyed writing in this alternative timeline where I got to experiment with their character's as little kids. If i have to be honest, i wrote it while pulling an all-nighter yesterday because i just couldn't stop. 
> 
> I am thinking about making a mini-series on this one because i think there are a lot of things to explore. What do you think?
> 
> Hope you liked it and thank you for reading! <3


	3. Second Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when, after not knowing anything about their friends for almost ten years, Katara and Sokka are invited to join them for New Year’s Eve in the home town they grew up in? Katara can’t help but fear their bond is forever lost, but maybe she’ll be surprised, maybe things did change forever, but maybe this is not as terrible as she thought. Maybe, she’ll discover that her friends grew into different people too. That Aang was is the tallest of them, that Toph is apparently great at design, that Suki is studying to be a teacher and that Zuko had found his smile. A smile she can’t take her eyes off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Setting:  
> -Time: Nowadays  
> -Place: A town at the south-east coast of the USA.  
> -Words: 3582

> # __________

# S E C O N D

# I M P R E S S I O N S

**@failedfirebender**

The sun was setting over the lovely neighborhood I had once called home. With every step, I regretted my being here more and more. Not because of the chilly breeze that was rising, but because of the memories that I thought long forgotten, and now came to me. 

I recalled every street, racing through them with my rollers on, the local library, the frozen yogurt shop – where I had just discovered old Maurice still worked – and the local cinema. Every place, that once used to be nothing but an ordinary asset in my ordinary life, was now removing my intestines with melancholy. 

All my courage had faded into thin air. 

“Chill, we’ll have a great time.” 

Of course, Suki was as cheerful as usual. She didn’t have to face the past, and a group of strangers that had nothing but a shared childhood and a sad goodbye in common with her, in a couple minutes. 

“I don’t know... I should really be studying.” 

It was no lie; I _did_ have finals in a couple weeks. Medicine school was proving to be an interesting challenge. But truth be told, I was just uncomfortable with the thought of the reunion. But I’d never admit it to Suki. 

I hadn’t heard anything from the guys in a really long time. After Mom’s death, Sokka and I pushed them all away. The last time I saw them, I was ten, and we all dressed the same mourning color. My eyes had been sore and red from the ocean I had cried away earlier, and the harrowing pain had been replaced with a void so big, I feared it might swallow all my friends like ahungry monster. They’d be lost forever, just like Mom. 

_Not lost_ , I reminded myself at that time. My mother was _gone_. Not like when she went out for groceries, or just out with Dad on date-night. She wouldn't come back to cook popcorn and watch movies; she wouldn’t ever again sneak into my room in the middle of the night to accommodate the blankets I had kicked away. _She_ was gone, and _I_ was the lost one. 

Suki, Toph, Zuko and Aang had hugged me and my brother, thinking they’d see us Monday morning at school. But we never showed up. Not that week – which we spent packing – and not the following one, or the month that followed or the rest of the year or ever. 

Everything in our town reminded us of Mom. It was too painful to walk through the streets and remember her voice, her laugh and, lastly, her sickened coughs, waking us up in the middle of the night. So, we moved out in an attempt to move on, and our hometown became a dream from the past as we rebuilt ourselves in a city loud enough to bury the melody of the life we used to have. 

It was not until last year, walking down Brooklyn late at night, that Sokka encountered Suki. Somehow, they recovered their friendship without me knowing. They only let me know of their reencounter after months of me insisting to meet Sokka’s new girlfriend. I was starting to think he’d made it all up, which was why the truth hit me like a brick wall. Or, perhaps, it was hard to assemble because he randomly showed up to family dinner the with his arm around Suki – the same girl that kicked his but at every sport when we were little and I hadn’t seen in a lifetime. 

After some arguing, he explained Suki had agreed to not say anything about finding us to the friends we used to share. My brother and I had started over in New York. We had a stable life, a routine, new friends at university and we didn’t need the past hoovering over us all the time. Yet, it didn’t take long for Suki – with her sweet smiles at dinner and the giggles she tried to hide whenever Sokka cracked one of his terrible jokes – to win me over again. We became great friends again, and eventually, she moved in with Sokka and I. 

There was one only golden rule: we did not speak about the rest. As long as that was respected, we were ok. 

But one thing led to another and Suki decided she wanted to celebrate New Year back at home. Somehow, she ended up dragging both my brother and I along. I blamed Sokka, for not being able to say no to her, knowing I was not capable of saying no to him. 

“Are you eating that?” He asked, poking his head out from Suki’s side. One arm was over his girlfriend, and the other one was already snatching my frozen yogurt away. 

I glared at him, more out of habit than anger. I had lost my appetite a block ago, as we entered what felt like enemy territory. It was the finest district; manors with monstrous gardens and imponent facades of impeccable light colors flaked the road. 

My eyes fell on a corner, and recalled the time Zuko fell skateboarding. His knee bled badly and his eyes watered up but, as I kneeled by his side taking off my rollers to help him, he didn’t allow one teardrop through. Luckily, we were only two blocks away from his house. 

_Un_ luckily, that meant that we were now only a block and a half from it, where the reunion was taking place. 

I glanced at my two companions. They laughed about something Sokka said and, for some reason, Suki had ice-cream on the tip of her nose. How could they be so relaxed? It was as if my brother barely felt the pressure of the past building up over his chest. I, on the other hand, felt like my ribs were about to be smashed under it. 

Back in our Brooklyn apartment, Suki had offered to show us pictures of our old friends, to tell us a bit about their lives, in the spirit of reencounter. But as soon as she dug out her phone and attempted to show a picture of Toph, I excused herself out, feeling my breakfast, digested two hours ago, dangerously close to my mouth. Now, seeing them cheerfully walking through this nightmare, I regretted not being prepared and feared I would have nowhere to hide when I was forced to face my old trouble partners once and for all. In real life. After nine years, five months and sixteen days. 

Nine years, five months and sixteen days since I last saw my friends. Nine years, five months and sixteen days since I last walked these streets. Nine years, five months and sixteen days since I last saw my mother. And somehow, all that time seemed shorter than the few minutes it took us to reach Zuko’s door. 

The black fence between us and the modern architecture of the gigantic house made me feel trapped. But that didn’t stop me from observing curiously through it: between the black stripes, I saw someone had decided to change the dark gray that colored it with a creamy tone, and a window – wide and luminous, that allowed a view of a set dining table – took now the greatest area of the front wall. I couldn’t shake the thought of a completely different family living in there. 

I didn’t even have time to prepare, before Suki was hitting the doorbell. 

Less than two seconds later, a dark figure, swept its way from the front door, across the white stone steps – those were also new – and to the gate. At first, I could only guess the main features of the figure’s appearance: Male, tall, dressed in an orange loose hoodie, black jeans, and what looked like skating shoes. Then, I recognized the excited smile, the childish happiness, the joyful steps (almost as if he was dancing, and just like I remembered). Lastly, my eyes met his gray orbs, sparkled with a brown inner ring. And despite him having grown a chocolate-brown hair – shorter on the sides and combed to defy gravity – it was as if time had not changed him at all. 

“Sokka! Katara! Suki!” He didn’t even seem to remember the time that had split us apart, but I did, and my feet were screwed to the sidewalk, my throat suddenly sore, as he introduced the key into the gate and opened it for us. “I can’t believe it!” 

“Told you I’d get them to come,” Suki said giving him a quick hug and stepping in. The last time they saw each other, Aang was the second shorter member of the group. Now, he towered over Sokka, who looked obviously as struck as I was by the new Aang. 

“I don’t even know what to sa-” my brother’s words were left incomplete by our chocolate-haired friend. Good to know he was still a huger. Aang only let go off Sokka after a few seconds and an excited ‘No words needed, bro!’. 

When his sight finally landed on my paralyzed body, his gesture softened, but his smile didn’t quaver. 

“Hello there, Loopsies.” 

~ 

It had been so long since I last heard that nickname, that when Aang brought it up – like nine years, five months and sixteen days hadn’t gone bye – a blocked coffin of memories I didn’t remember existed was unlocked, and with it, an unexpected wave of courage. 

I had worn the same intricated updo since I could remember, to the day Mom left. It consisted in a couple of braid-like threads of hair – the famous loopsies – that went from my forehead to the back of my head, where they connected with a braid. It was weird to think Aang and the rest of the group had never seen me with my hair loose, something he didn’t fail to comment as we made our way to the front door. 

My reply was easy: Sokka and I had never seen him with hair at all before today. But Sokka made a correction, saying he saw the pictures. 

“Still, it’s impressive. And I can’t believe you rat are taller than me,” he complained. 

When Aang let us through, I was expecting the shiver that run down my spine the few times we entered Ozai’s - aka, Zuko’s father – domains, but it never came. Instead, I was surprised with an almost completely different house, as if the inside had also been taken by this new family I never got to know. There was more light, and the white and faint golden shades that took over the decorations gave it an elegance very different from the terrifying one that it used to characterize it. The furniture had also been replaced, I noticed in awe as we were led past the entrance hall and to the dining room. The Victorian-style table was now glass built, silver cutlery and elegant wine glasses, chairs that looked like they had been taken directly out of a design magazine. 

I couldn’t help but ask, “What happened to this place?” 

Suki, as if it was her house, shrugged and threw her coat over a chair. “After the eye surgery, Toph discovered she was particularly good at interior design.” 

“Eye surgery?” My eyes almost fell of their sockets. 

“Toph is good at _design_?” Sokka said at the same time. 

What I didn’t ask was how Ozai allowed her to do something like it to his house, because little Toph – or the woman that used to be little Toph and was now a girl with long black ponytail that cascaded over her back fiercely, walked into the room. Sokka almost choked, and it was not an exaggeration – with pale icy eyes, Toph had turned into a stunningly beautiful woman – but it still earned him an accusing glare from his girlfriend. As if to make up for it, he run towards Suki and kissed her cheek. 

“Well if it isn’t Snoozles, Honey and Sugar Queen,” The nicknames brought a smile to my face. Not even time could smooth Toph’s sharp sarcasm. “I can finally say I’m glad to see you.” 

Sokka laughed like crazy and hugged her, “I’ve missed your blind jokes _so_ much!” he fake-cried. 

Suki, with haunting jealousy on her face, and I, joined. Sokka had some female friends from the campus, but even when they were little, his relationship with Toph had seemed meant-to-be in a pure brotherly way that had made me think of her as a sister too. Apparently, Suki wasn’t as sure of the brotherly thing as I was, but I said nothing. Maybe it was a bit cruel, but I felt better knowing I wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with the situation. 

The thought didn’t last long though, because the shocking events of the night apparently hadn’t been enough, and Aang – who had left up the stairs in the hall to do god knows what – rejoined the conversation that had settled around Toph’s surgery and her new job. Of course, the grey-eyed boy joining casually was not what made me and my two other roomies’ jaw drop. That, was the little gesture that came before Aang’s innocent question – “What are we talking about?” –: a hand slipping around Toph’s waist and the fluttery kiss in the temple; so sweet, so ordinary, it was even more surprising. 

Suki relaxed her guardian act, but she was just as surprised was Sokka and I were when she asked for ‘the exact moment in which that became a thing and why she didn’t know’ - her words, not mine. 

As Aang told the story of how they started dating – apparently, the sarcastic girl asked him out, tired of waiting for him to make the move – we all moved to the couches on the other side of the room, that were comfortably accommodated in front of a fireplace. 

I was finally starting to relax, while catching up, when the sixth missing voice of the group emerged from the dinning space behind my back. 

“Well if it isn’t like the old days...” 

When I turned and saw him standing there, only one thought stomped through my brains: _Who in the goddamn world, gave him permission to glow up_ ** _like that_** _?_

Zuko had grown his hair too – apparently they all had that in common – and it fell messily over his forehead, like he had gotten tired of it being so long and just decided to cut it off with a knife, leaving some longer bangs and uneven edges that somehow looked good on him. All of his features had grown sharper, from the cheekbones, to the jawline, to the delicate nose and the edgy curves of the slim figure that could be guessed underneath the clothes. His eyes had shifted into sharper almonds, the expression was no longer the one of the stubborn, sad boy he once was, but the almond color of his irises shimmered with the same golden-like dust. The scar he’d mysteriously gotten a few months before Mom passed away, had turned into a lighter shade, darker in the closest areas to the eye, but was now completely healed. But it was not even unattractive, it was just Zuko _er_ , and whatever the reason, it made him even more... interesting. He sported a fancy outfit, unlike our other two hosts, with tight black pants, a dark grey sweater with the collar of a burgundy button-up poking tidily around the v-neck. Even his shoes seemed to shine neatly, clashing with his mane. 

I was hypnotized by him, and I didn’t notice we had been staring into each other’s eyes way longer than normal people did, until Toph coughed exaggeratedly, from the couch in front of mine. 

I flinched away, redirecting my sight to the crispy fireplace. 

A side of me was in complete denial, repeating over and over again that the guy over there, who was now giving Sokka and Suki a normal welcoming – with a hug and a little chit chat instead of a clearly charged gaze across the room –, couldn’t be Zuko. It just wasn’t him. The way I remembered Zuko, he was a boy as thin as spaghetti whose inner light seemed to have been dying since the moment he was born. But, there was this other side of me, that found it unnervingly easy to give in to his newly found sided smile and lively humor. 

Too deep had I lost myself within my own thought, and barely noticed a pair of long legs standing by my side. 

“Hello,” he sounded shy, but somehow bordering mockery, “Zuko here...” 

With an uncomfortable smile, I stood up and pretended not to see his eyes scanning my body from head to toes and back up. 

I had a knot on my throat and despite wanting to convince myself that I was not thinking about it, my mind reprehended my long-sleeved dress and winter boots I wrapped myself in last minute, too worried about other things to even think about appearances. I was awfully conscious of the fact that one of my knee-high black socks was higher than the other. 

It was good that the others had left to set the final details of the table, because when a sloppy “Oh yeah, I didn’t see you” fell of my lips and Zuko’s eyebrow was shot upwards, I knew the violent blush that took over my cheeks was more than obvious. 

“I mean I saw you- I just-” 

He chuckled, so melodiously, I was tempted to say more stupidities just to hear it again. 

“It’s ok, I have no idea of what to say either.” This time, his scrutinizing eyes seemed to _want_ me to know he was looking. And believe me, I did. “So, how you’ve been?” 

It was the second time today I was asked that exact same question, first Toph, now Zuko. Weren’t they angry that we left without notice? Were they going to say anything about it, or was the night going to be filled with easy conversation and laughter? 

Nine years, five months and sixteen days, and I never contacted any of them, too scared of them turning us down the way we did them, too much of a coward to face the consequences of our escape... and, ends up, there was nothing to fear. It was almost delirious to think of those rare but deeply sorrowful nights in which I couldn’t sleep, wondering what might’ve been of my friends. I wanted to know if Aang ever got the dog he wanted, if Toph revealed herself against her parent’s oppression, if Suki kept training to get her black belt, if Zuko found his light and if they all continued skating together the way we used to. 

“What-?” His voice had shifted from calm to overly worried. “Katara, are you ok?” His big hands fell on my shoulders and, just then, I realized my eyes had watered up. “I’m sorry for whatever I said. _I’m so stupid_.” A choppy giggle got stuck half way out my mouth as he lowered his eyes and said that to himself. Instantly, his orbs came back to mine. 

I stepped back, realizing we were closer than people who hadn’t seen each other in almost ten years were supposed to be. My skin was left cold where his touch used to be, but I shook the thought off as I rubbed my eyes, glad I'd chosen waterproof mascara, making an excuse to break eye contact. I didn’t like how attractive he turned out to be. I didn’t like that I couldn’t help but notice, and I _hated_ that I couldn’t even hide it. 

“You are not stupid,” I admitted, letting my hands down, but still avoiding his eyes. Around the table, our friends cackled and accommodated plates already served with steaming food and, seeing it, unexpeted warmth took over my body. “It’s just... seeing you all again-” My brother’s horrible laughter interrupted me, and the tips of my lips curled up, “It feels like nothing changed and, somehow,” I added, meeting his attentive gaze, “like everything did.” 

“Good,” He gave me that smirk and my heart skipped a beat. “We have one whole night to get to know each other all over again.” And if it weren’t because he said the words looking towards our loud friends, I would’ve sworn his plans didn’t include them at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I present you a potential mini-series. So you could have a part two - more spicy because this was dull af - on what happened that night anytime soon :)


	4. Mascarade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Even on Halloween, no one likes to be face to face with an actual monster."  
> Someone told Zuko that so many years ago he couldn't even remember. But perhaps, the girl with the ocean eyes can show that person wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Setting:  
> Time: Contemporary AU - Katara and Zuko are 19 and 22 years old.  
> Place: Portland  
> -Words: 6816

# __________

# M A S C A R A D E

 **@failedfirebender**

She danced like she was made of fire, but her eyes shone like the hypnotizing depths of the ocean. 

That was the first thing I noticed about her as I watched from my seat near the bar. 

The second thing, was that I was not the only one admiring. The girl in the carmine clothes had a ton of spectators who, like myself, were enchanted by her lonely yet lively movements, too scared to interrupt, because her beauty erupted something fatal that made it even harder to look away. Like mythical creatures that crawled out of children tales, I thought she would turn to stone anyone who met her gaze. Even worse, if that were true, many would gladly be petrified; a low price to be paid for a second of her undivided attention. But she was now swinging, and her whole world seemed to be in the music. 

Her disguise didn’t reveal much, and was clearly not meant to provoke, unlike the ones the other girls – dressed as degrading bunnies, fairies and witches – wore. A robe, dark red, fell around her shoulders, exposing them, tied to her neck delicately and hinting an also red top underneath. The tunic fell nearly grazing the floor, almost flowing at her feet. I wondered, while eyeing the blood colored stripes painted over her face and shoulders, why was she alone, if she was escaping too. The paint curled at her cheekbones delicately, making them look sharper, and also stripped her shoulders. If I graced my fingers through it, would it blear? Would it blur out over her skin, staining my own hands too? She seemed so distant from this world, I was almost sure it wouldn’t. She would remain the same. Eternal like her beauty. 

“You could just, you know,” Aang said, snapping me out of my daydreaming, “talk to her.” 

Of course, my friend was not even paying attention to the mystery girl. Ever since he got together with Toph, he didn’t have eyes for anyone else, or speak about anything else, for that matter. “Toph this, Toph that,” it was sweet to see him in love, and just as annoying. 

“Creepy staring is not quite the best move with ladies,” Toph, by his side, mocked. 

I shrugged, taking my drink and finishing it. It scorched my throat, relaxed the tension in my arms. 

I didn’t see the problem with staring. It was not as if she would notice. Right after parking the car at the fraternity’s door I threw on a mask– Aang said it was too creepy, like something a serial killer would wear, or a bank robber –, that didn’t allow my eyes nor my face to be seen. _Even on Halloween, no one likes to be face to face with an actual monster_. Someone – I couldn’t remember quite the face – said that many years ago, and it, somehow, stuck with me. 

The girl’s dance died slowly with the song, her eyes opened and a smile brightened her features. As if the world didn’t weight an ounce over her shoulders. But I knew a broken soul the moment I saw it, and underneath the white pearls of her smile, the shiny hair and the graceful movement of her hips, that girl irradiated all-consuming sorrow. It was painfully beautiful to watch. 

When I first saw her, around ten minutes ago, she had a straw hat on, and a translucent veil that fell from it, hiding her features, but now they had both gotten lost, and her hair, dark and curly, cascaded over her back. Ten minutes, and I hadn’t seen her interact with anyone. It was almost as if she had come on her own. But no one came to parties on their own, right? 

“What?” I barked over my shoulder. Aang wouldn’t shut up by my side. He was saying something about tardiness and being worried. 

“I was just asking if you knew anything about Sokka. He was supposed to be here like ten minutes ago.” 

My eyes widened. 

_Shit, Sokka._

Aang was right. He was supposed to be here, the whole “bros night out” had been his idea. Where was that dork? 

I dug out my phone, searching for his contact. As I hit the picture – blue eyes, a half ponytail I got tired of telling him how bad it looked and a duck face. _God_ he was lame – I looked up for the mystery girl. But as if she had been built out of light and smoke, she was gone. 

I typed as fast as my fingers allowed me to. 

**_Where are you? -Z_ **

My nerves built up. Sokka had been one of my closest friends since the start of Uni, partly, because he was easy to be around. All laughter, bad jokes, and unexpectedly smart ideas. But mainly, because he asked no questions and neither did I. He had his private life, and just the way I did, he liked to keep it that way: private. 

From time to time, he pulled one of these off. He would disappear, go missing a couple days, or weeks, and then come back like nothing happened, no answer given to the questions that I never asked. At first, I had to admit, it was too easy not to care, but I had known the guy for three years now, and it was getting harder not to. 

Aang overshared, soft talk and feelings were - I guessed – his thing. Sokka was in the middle; open enough to laugh freely and like a total imbecil, ready to be the life of the party wherever he went, but closed enough to shut off the moment the word “family” came up. And I... well, I was comfortable around them. They never demanded me to talk too much, included me in stuff, worked at my uncle’s tea shop, The Jasmin Dragon, with me. Things I never thought I would ever be able to even start to comprehend, I was now living. It was hard not to care for those who allowed that to happen. 

The phone buzzed. 

**_Family issues. See you. -S_ **

That was it. Surprisingly more than I expected, surprisingly less than anyone would accept. But I, better than anyone, knew what it was like to desperately want to forget the past by not allowing it to mix with the present. 

At least I was lucky enough to have left it all behind. After I moved to Ba Sing Se with Uncle, things slowly became easier, the world shone a little brighter. Sokka, on the other hand, seemed to have some things to sort out before getting a light of his own. 

_See you_ , he’d written. Today? Tomorrow? It wouldn’t surprise me if he showed up in a month, with a Pizza box at our campus dorm, relaxed and asking for a videogame match, like nothing happened. 

I turned to Aang. He was whispering something to Toph’s ear and I tried not to look at them more than necessary. It didn’t seem like something I, or anyone, was supposed to be watching. _Ugh_. 

“Sokka says he won’t be coming.” I wasn’t sure if he heard me or not, but I got up and walked away anyways. If he needed me, he could always text me. Plus, I had the car keys, which meant they weren’t going anywhere without me. 

I looked around me, to the ridiculously big living room, furniture-less and packed almost to suffocating points, the pink and blue lights flashing across my eyes, and disguised fraternity members. Just then, I realized I had unconsciously been looking for the mystery lady. 

I was starting to think I imagined her after crossing the kitchen – where a group was making shots and howling rabidly – when, tip-toing, I got a glimpse of the cone-shaped straw hat and translucent veil, popping on the second floor, by the railing on the second floor that hoovered over the dancefloor. 

I still had the empty glass on my hand. _No more drinks for the night_ , I thought while dropping it on somebody else’s hand. They called me out, but I ignored them. My head was perfectly clear, only my muscles had loosened a bit, and I intended on keeping myself sober. As designated driver, there was not much I could do about it. Plus, my drinking to dead nights were long overdue. 

I rushed up the stairs, not even sure of what was driving me. I didn’t even know what I was going to say. Hell, I didn’t even know – until that moment – I was planning on talking to her. Aang’s expressed worries about the mask became suddenly louder in my head. I didn’t want her to think I was about to pick-pocket her, or rob a bank, or kill her. But my hands were tied, since the horror underneath the mask was worse. 

I could hear my father in my head; “Half a man deserves half a face.” The memory didn’t hurt anymore, I had embraced it after so many years, but the reminder when I walked past a mirror, when the water in the sink returned my reflection, that still hurt. It was permanent, the horrible incarnation of the past on my skin. 

Distracted by my thoughts, my initial mission got lost, and I bumped against a redhead. She seemed familiar, but I couldn’t guess where I knew her from with all the make-up she had on. Her face was completely covered with white paint and glowing red shadows grew from her upper eyelashes to her temples. Her eye-color was undefined under the changing lights, but she was dressed like some kind of warrior. 

I smiled, then remembered the mask, and wanted to slap myself. 

Instead, I voiced: “Sorry, didn’t see you there.” For a second, I thought she was going to say something coherent, like “hi”, or “hello”, or “watch your step”, at worse. But instead, accompanied by the curling tips of her mouth, a name came of her lips. 

“Katara!” 

I jumped back with a rushing heartbeat, pushing someone behind me, before following her gaze. It was as if I knew, even before seeing, that her eyes were on me. 

The mystery girl – I now realized she had impossibly long eyelashes darkening her eyes – seemed just as startled by her friend’s voice. 

“Is this the dance-floor creep?” The red-head asked. 

That was not the way I wanted to be introduced. At all. 

“Just the one.” She raised her voice over the music, and even with all the noise around us, I realized it had a soft tone with a hint of sand in it, dormant yet exhilarating. 

“You skipped all the interesting parts of the description.” My heart skipped a beat at the warrior’s reply. Had she also recognized me under the mask? Her eyes scanned me, and I allowed a breath slowly out. Those were not recognizing eyes, but it didn’t ease my nerves to know she was evaluating me. 

There wasn’t much to evaluate. The lunatic mask – Chinese style, blue with black holes for the eyes and curled white fangs craved into a twisted smile – could be an issue, but for the rest, I felt pretty average, styling a black button-up, with rolled up sleeves after five minutes inside the overheated fraternity house, and same colored jeans and shoes. I wasn’t one known for fashion. Since I moved with Uncle, I hadn’t seen a hairdresser, and had controlled my mane with a kitchen knife, the wavy strands poked from behind the mask and tickled over my ears. “Split ends, uneven and too long”, Toph had tried to describe it once, “It’s terrible”, she topped off. I didn’t bother arguing that hairstyle was the least of my problems. 

“Interesting?” I repeated. 

Katara - I flavored the letters slowly on my mind. It was a strong name, eccentric and elegant –, smiled. A kind and equally unsettling smile that made me thankful no one was asking me anything. With no previous warning, she had snatched the words out of my reach. 

“Ignore Suki, she has her own sense of humor.” 

“And you have clearly unexpected grace to treat with ‘dance-floor creeps’,” I quoted her friend. 

The tips of her mouth curled ironically, and I thought that was the best thing that had witnessed that day, after her dancing. 

_You do realize that’s why you are the dance-floor_ _creep?_ , the cranky voice in my head scowled me. 

“In my defense, you were not very discrete.” 

“Could say the same about you.” I recalled her dancing, thinking there was no room for the outer world in her delicate steps. Apparently, she hadn’t been as distracted as she seemed to. 

“I like to think people have better things to do than stare.” Even under the poor illumination, I saw her cheeks flush as she shrugged, and got the impression it was not an easy thing to get her to do. A proud butterfly batted its wings inside my chest. I felt utterly idiotic and was behaving accordingly. 

Underneath the mask’s protection, I allowed myself to smile foolishly 

“I didn’t,” words were falling from my mouth without previous inspection, and I was behaving more and more like the creep she thought I was. Yet, I couldn’t stop, because they seemed to make her smile, and I liked being the cause of it. “Was waiting for a friend and got stood up.” I added, only then realizing this made me look like a friendless looser. _Well done!_ “I mean, some other friends are here but they are bussy doing couple things I don’t want to get involved with because they are couple things and-” 

This time, she laughed. Not the bluebell laughter I was expecting, but a hoarser, more abrupt one that tempted me to join. 

“Ok, I get it, not precisely slick at social interaction,” I added. But I kept to myself how much, and how weird, it felt to be smiling with a total stranger, to want to know more of them. 

When her cackling stopped, her eyes glowed differently. “Dance with me,” she said. 

And I didn’t say just how much I’d been wanting her to ask, or how nervous it made me to know I was as good at dancing as a lion at mooing, lost in the way she grabbed my wrist, guiding us through the crowd. 

I caught a glimpse of her friend smiling behind us, by a group of people, still not being able to remember where I’d seen her before, and too distracted by the elegant fingers burning my skin to even care. 

~ 

We danced. I had no idea for how long we did, or when we exactly stopped. All I knew was that I started off stiff like my arms had been glued to the sides of my body, and then she grabbed my hands and lead the way into the song. And that I was incredibly thankful after she threw the hat away and allowed me to see her face clearly. 

Before I could even think of the eyes of strangers hoovering around us, I was submerged into her bubble. I couldn’t find a better way to put it into words, I doubt there was one, but dancing with her, felt like I had been swallowed into a parallel reality, in which it was just the music, her eyes and I. Our surroundings became blurry, my worried mind numb. She was the fearless tides crashing against the shore, it was too easy to give in. So, I did and allowed myself to drown. 

Our bodies always remained at prudent distance, only brought together by our hands, and sometimes not even that. I liked the safe distance, I liked the way she shouted the chorus of the songs looking into my eyes – or at least he darkened holes that stood before them – and that she laughed and imitated my terrible moves, not as mockery, but as if she just wanted to make them their own. No need to clarify, Katara managed to perform them with all the grace I lacked. 

Exhausted, with water bottles on our hands, we walked towards the garden. I was surprised and pleased to realize my nerves were not nearly as dangerously charged as I thought they would be. She was easy to be around with, a presence that didn’t demand a constant chattery and created comfortable pauses in the conversation. 

It was abnormally hot for this time of the year, but a chilly breeze still hit us when we stepped outside. I regretted not having a coat to lend her, but allowed myself to fantasize of how she would’ve looked if I had. The top of her head reached a bit over my lips, and under her robe, a pair of worn-out sneakers poked out, which meant she was tall and that one of my jackets or hoodies would’ve looked just perfect on her. 

As an extension of the wooden back deck’s stairs, a wide garden grew, the grass sparkled with bottles and beer cans, a pool no one was using, but still had the white led lights on, could be seen against the farthest wall, surrounded by drunk teenagers. Five or six feet from us, grew a massive tree, with low hanging branches the wind rocked. Below it, a couple was making out like private rooms didn’t exist, on the other side, someone puked. My nose wrinkled with disgust. Not the greatest place for a nice conversation, but, then again, just by watching Katara setting camp over the stairs, it didn’t seem so bad. 

“Like the views?” I mocked, falling beside her. 

She scoffed and shot me a sarcastic smile. Illuminated by the pool’s light at the distance, and the even further one, from the moon, I realized the painting in her face had been smudged and stained imperfectly across her cheeks. It made her look less like a creature of fairy origins and more like a human girl. 

“I find certain fascination in all the frat-university party environment.” 

I narrowed my eyes. “You are not in high school, are you?” I was only partly mocking, so relief showered me when she laughed and said she was nineteen. 

“Then why do you speak like this is unknown territory?” 

“I could ask why you speak like you jumped out of a Jane Austen novel.” 

“You could,” I pointed out, feeling my face redden, “but I asked first. And, for the record, I am not nearly as pompous as Austen, or as old-fashioned.” 

Her eyebrows were shot upwards, “You just used the word _‘pompous’_. By the way, you didn’t strike me like a Jane Austen reader kind of guy.” 

Because I wasn’t. I read it some summers ago, for a novel-writing summer course that would give me extra points on English Literature. Romances and pretty girls were not my style, instead, the pieces by Poe, the twisted corners of his mind... they astounded me in all possible ways. 

“You are changing topics,” I whined, “I asked first.” 

“I don’t even know your name yet, and you demand my life story? That’s awfully rude, Mr. Austen.” 

My blush intensified, as I realized she spoke truth, and the heat under the mask accumulated and itched. So immerse I had been on her, I completely forgot to introduce myself. 

“It’s Zuko,” I said, “Will you now share that piece of life story?” 

“I don’t even know _your face_ yet, and you demand my life story? That’s awfully rude, Zuko.” She repeated. I didn’t know what made me more nervous, if her desire to look at the eyes that hadn’t left her all night, or the sound of my name on her lips. I brushed my palms against my thighs. 

“I already gave up too much.” My voice quavered, but she didn’t notice, or at least, didn’t show it. “What do you have to give?” 

“I forgot to send my applications on time,” I turned to her, “I did this year though. I’m waiting for them to answer.” She balanced her elbows over her knees, the petal-like robe flowed like a stream around her and down the stairs. “Hopefully, next summer, this will become known territory.” 

“I have to admit I wasn’t expecting that.” 

Her eyes, that had been lost somewhere in the past, found their way back to me, and I saw sadness drowning in them, calling out for someone to come and drag her out. The contrast with her calm expression was breathtaking. Like she was so used to drowning, she’d learnt to breathe the ocean’s blackness. 

“Why would you say that?” 

“I didn’t strike as an Austen reader? Well you did as the perfect graduate with honors, on a sabbatical travelling the world.” She looked delighted by my guess, and somehow entertained. “Not close to reality?” 

“Not at all, but a nice dream, though.” 

What could ever hold back a girl like her from grabbing the wheel of destiny and drifting away? She seemed so independent, prepared for anything life could throw at her. Not at all likely to forget something as important as her future. She hid things, which only ignited my curiosity farther. I could feel it burning inside my bones, menacing to turn me into ashes. 

So, we kept talking, and talking, and talking. Hours passed and we ended up strolling down the garden, jumping over broken glasses and making fun of the drunk people that started to accumulate at the deck. I told her I studied Literature and was complementing it with a one-year-long course of psychology, she shared that she wanted to be a social worker, help those whose life had been less privileged. 

“Once, social services played an important role in my life. It was scary.” I had no idea where this sudden outburst of truth was coming from. “Maybe if someone like you had been there, it wouldn’t’ve been.” 

How many times had I thought of things turning out different? What would it have been if Mom never left? What would it have been if Dad never raised a hand? What would it have been if I hadn’t received that last everlasting scar? What would it have been if Uncle hadn’t opened his arms and home to me? That part of my life, the fifteen-year-old boy who feared even breathing too loud could earn him a beating, was probably not teenage paradise, but it led here. 

_And here is good_ , I thought, looking at Katara’s eyes, that held shimmering shadows and darkened lights. Uncle’s hugs, Aang’s childish smile, Toph’s rough love and Sokka’s crazy occurrences. _Here is so very good_. 

She was about to say something, when a buzzing phone interrupted. When she moved, to take it out of her pocket, I felt the electric discharge of her arm grazing mine. She looked up at me from the corner of her eye, and I wondered if she felt it too, then looked away, probably realizing she didn’t want the dance floor creep to be staring at her screen as she typed. 

“Well,” she said a couple of seconds later, putting the device back where it came from, “Just Suki. Apparently, I’m taking a cab home.” 

We kept walking, none of us attempting to increase the almost none-existent space between our arms. 

“Your friend took the car?” 

“She got bored, and left. Apparently, she can’t stand a party without her new boyfriend aka, my brother.” 

“He didn’t come?” 

“He was supposed to, but I really needed a night off and asked him to cover for me.” She looked away. I admired it though, that she had chosen to say the truth despite how obviously she would’ve preferred not to, and so I didn’t push on it. 

Plus, her brother and friend bailing meant I gained a little more time with her. Maybe enough to gain some bravery and walk her home. 

“Was your night off what you expected?” I asked, feeling the adrenaline rush through my veins. I wanted to know, but I also feared her answer. 

But as she replied, my eyes escaped hers, shame spreading through my cheeks. 

“Not at all.” 

I had been brought up on low expectations. They used to be a crucial part of my life, and yet, when she said that, I felt my heart turn to stone, weighting down on my chest. I hoped it was heavy enough to sink me under the Earth’s crust, so that it could spit me back home and I could write all these regrets – for asking about it, for expecting a reply she couldn’t give, for even coming at all – away. 

I thought of my face, hidden under the mask, and how I'd thought it would’ve been the one to blame for her running away. Apparently, she didn’t need it. 

“One never expects to end up talking to a faceless guy at three a.m.” She added. “I could say my expectations – an uneventful night of dancing – were too low compared to what I got.” 

This time, when her arms grazed mine, it was because she was turning to face me, and I felt the touch like a hook sliding between my ribs, and pulling towards her. 

She was too close, the tips of our shoes almost touching, and I could scent for the first time, her perfume. It was a fragrance built of salt, jasmine and running through sunflower fields. The water in her eyes shone clear like summer midday skies and I forgot about the cold and about the hesitations. 

Her fingers, those whose touch I remembered holding my hand at the dancefloor, burning my skin, reached up and touched the lower slap of the mask. The unasked question floated between us, where the hint of her breath met mine. “Can I?”, her eyes said. And I swear I was about to let her. After everything she said, after having seen her passion and heard her laugh, after dancing intoxicated by her mere sight, after witnessing her honesty, how could I say no? 

But my phone was the one to interrupt this time. As I jumped back, taking it out with the stiffest set of movements ever seen, I didn’t know if I had to thank Aang or curse him in a every single known language I knew and knew not how to speak. I looked down at Katara, not sure if the paint on her face had scattered even more or if she was blushing again, and her orbs fluttered away, long lashes like butterfly wings around them. Whatever the answer, she looked so adorable I decided punching Aang was the correct decision. 

**_Toph_ ** **_wants to go home._ **

**_Where r u?_ **

**_Zukkoooo_ **

**_Zuzu_ **

**_Sparky pleaseee_ **

**_-A_ **

Leaving aside my newly found murderous instincts towards my friend, I typed a fast reply and returned to Katara. But the spell had been interrupted and the magic vanished into thin air. 

Right then, for the first time in what seemed like forever, I had a desperate impulse to do something. To recover what I thought was lost, to not just settle with what was given. I wanted- scratch that. I _needed_ Katara’s eyes to shimmer with that icy warmth again. And I was willing to put aside the little voice of logic in my head for it to happen. So, I did the one thing I never expected to do, slid my hand into hers – not a weak grip, to move across the crowd, or a fainted one to follow the rhythm of a song – and almost screamed when she held it back, no questions asked. 

I hoped I was also brave enough to take the mask off, to let her see I was human too, but those thoughts remained incorporeal, wondering through my head, as I met her gaze. 

“How far away from here do you live?” 

She raised her eyebrows, smirk on her face. 

“I don’t think that’s information I should be giving to strangers.” 

“I’m Zuko Austen, remember?” I mocked back. “I read depressing poetry, and write even more depressing one, live a life based on coffee, work at The Jasmin Dragon, and want to walk you home if you would be so kind to accept.” Blood pounded at my temples and it was hard to hear her reply, but the way her teeth showed and her grip around my hand tightened, gave me a pretty clear idea of what it was. 

~ 

Our fingers were still interlocked as we walked the timeless streets. It seemed as if the world had decided to pause just for us, or even _because_ of us. From my point of view, at least, we were a pretty interesting thing to the eye. A girl made of dreams and blood and a faceless boy dressed like shadows. As different as day and night and somehow the same. 

The same pain we carried and laughed out, the same scars underneath, that even though we had not shared yet, we both knew were there. In the way she smiled but never to the top of her cheeks, in the way I kept my ridiculous mask on. But also, in the way we had danced and forgotten those skeletons in our closets, how we had talked and faked to be two more average students in a crowd of thousands. 

The breeze had quieted, the dark mantle of night had covered our shoulders and the deadly silence was only interrupted by our voices and Katara’s occasional burst of laughter. For the first time In my life, I understood what people meant by ‘not being able to get enough of someone’, because beside Katara, I thought that I could just sit for hours and hear her talk about Jane Austen – which, ends up, she was a fan of – for all eternity. Hell, she could be talking about photosynthesis and I still would’ve. There was something so passionate about the way she accompanied each word with her hands and her ocean eyes absorbed the light around us, overshadowing the moon. Her whole heart and soul were exposed, and they were such wonderful things to witness come to life. 

I was firm, explaining what was it about poetry that touched a person’s soul in such a special way – the rhythm, the infinite interpretations, the easiness for which a good piece could stick with you forever –, something I thought I would never do, when Katara dug her heels on the ground. I jolted back to her because of our linked hands when I distractedly kept walking. We stood in a dark spot, the lampposts ahead and before us too distant to share their light, and the moon plucked silver contours of her face, her eyes stealing its paleness and reflecting it like it lived within her. 

“I can’t not see your face when you say those things.” She spit it, as if she was afraid of how I might react. 

“I mean you _can_ , you’ve been doing it for five and a half hours.” She gave me a look that spoke for itself, and I started to get really nervous. My hand slid from hers, and I gave her my back. “I know, I know what you meant.” I answered. 

“I won’t judge.” She sounded closer. 

“You can’t promise it.” 

Her hand landed between my shoulder blades, almost imperceptible, but it cramped my every muscle. “Try me.” It was a whisper, so lacking of my own fears, it gave me hope. 

My head was hundreds of years ago, the night it all happened. 

I had been cooking diner, and wanted to drink something. When the juice dripped from the bottle to the glass, I spilled a bit, so little it would’ve been easily cleaned with a napkin in less than it took a man to blink. But my father had already seen. His eyes – I still saw them in nightmares, bloodshot and irritated, poisoned with rage. They were the eyes of death and gates of hell, and when they found mine, I knew I was going to pay for every drop. 

I run, then tried to reason, and finally, begged. 

“Be a man, quit crying,” He’d growled, his voice was like thunder splitting the sky in two. I wondered how my mother bared it for so long. Yet again, she didn’t have to anymore. I was the only one here that trembled under it. But I couldn’t stop shaking, I couldn’t help the tears dripping down my face. “You won’t?” And he smiled that cursed smile, like my fear was a game. “Well then, half a man deserves half a face,” he’d said. 

Before I knew it, the boiling water over the hob, was burning me alive. I had officially felt the fire of hell, I thought back then. I knew it. I knew I had stood in front of the devil and I knew it would be the last time. 

And it was, only not for the reasons I thought. I didn’t die that night. 

In a las outburst of clarity in his intoxicated state, my father carried me to the hospital, where I woke up, greeted by the empty memory of pain. 

I was not able to remember feeling anything. Only closing my eyes right before the water hit me and opening one of them to total darkness, the other one, to a couple of police officers. Bandages covered the left side of my now shaved head, my ear too. 

One question, one lonely question I had been asked a million times, was enough to break me. With perspective, I could say, it also saved me. 

_“Was this your father?”_

~ 

Carried by the intensity of the memory, of the end of the darkest period of my life and the beginning of a new one, of restoration and search, I ripped the mask away. Katara, at my back, gasped at the sudden move. My shoulders hung low, defeated, as she made her way around me. 

I could feel her standing right in front of me. In the way her eyes burned my sin, and she stopped breathing. I could picture the horror in her face, but not see it. 

A cold caress made me flinch. She didn’t touch the scar, almost as if it was not there, instead cupping my right cheek. I leaned into the comfort it offered, into the expectant silence hanging between us. 

“Zuko,” she called. How could a name sound so much like a song? “Zuko, open your eyes.” I shook my head no. I liked the darkness, maybe if I couldn’t see her, she wouldn’t be able to see me. “Please?” 

How weak of me, to give into such pitiful whisper. 

She jolted back, but I placed my hand over hers, kipping it next to my skin. Her face was not of horror, her eyes didn’t bleed fear, they looked into mine like I was built out of glass. I felt so violently exposed, the urge to run away tickled my skin, but my eyes refused to leave hers. 

“They are golden.” The words could’ve been lost in the wind, but they slid through my ears like a waltz of bewildered strings. “I didn’t realize it at first, but they shine.” 

At first? She said _at first_? 

I was now the one stepping back and she the one to hold me. When she did, both hands around my face, her fingertips grazed the scar under my eye. Even in the lightless spot that hid us, it was a mark that couldn’t be disguised. Red, purplish, wrinkled, staining the skin around my eye and my ear, pathetically hidden under the shaggy hair. There was no way in the world she wouldn’t’ve known or felt the toughened skin, much less not be disgusted by it. And, minutes ago, I would’ve thought there was no way in the world I would give anyone the opportunity to feel it. Yet there I was, and there was she, and both things seemed possible. 

“I know,” Katara continued, convincing me that she could see right through me, “I know I should’ve told you earlier.” A knot formed in my stomach, and slowly begun to flow up my windpipe. “I saw you at the party, when you got there, before you put on the mask. I have no idea of why but I was so intrigued-” 

“Intrigued?” I couldn’t prevent the hurt’s claws from clutching my muffled voice, “As in _let’s see the circus freak from up close_?” 

For the first time, I saw terror rising the tides in her eyes, like my distrust was a full moon tainted red. 

“No, god no.” And how could’ve I accused her of being untrue when such worry eclipsed her radiant smile? “Intrigued by the way you walked, by the way you smiled at your friends, the way you helped that lost girl find her friends before entering the party...” She was blushing and I felt like a truck had run over me. 

“You were watching?” 

“In my defense, you were not very discrete,” she tried to crack a joke with her previously said line, but all I could think of was that when she said that the first time, she’d been thinking of _me_. Not of the creepy guy staring at her while she danced, but of the one with the marked features that wished to forget. 

And then another idea crossed my mind, and it wasn’t after I voiced it that I realized how stupid it was. 

Her face was on fire. Not her cheeks, her whole face; hands fell at the sides of her body. 

“Not at first... I was just dancing with my friends, but then- I- uh-” I smiled. My whole set of teeth exposed inevitably. 

“So, you _did_ dance for me.” I found invigorating joy in being the cause of her hesitation, of her eyes skipping mine and her shameful but almost imperceptible amused smile. 

“I liked you better when you weren’t all hoity-toity.” 

“Yeah, enough to dance for me.” 

Her lips parted in a scornful expression. And then she replied, but my attention was no longer on her words. 

“I really want to kiss you right now.” I hadn’t even realized I stepped closer, much less recognized the words as they found their way out of my lips, but I surprisingly did not regret it. I, for the first time, felt like a girl as blindingly fascinating as Katara, might want to kiss me too. 

But when she found my lips, I did realize. Everything was suddenly brighter and my body was overly charged with sensations. I was once again in her bubble, but in one just so tight our bodies had to find a way to fit into each other. Kissing Katara felt like swallowing the whole sea, unable to get enough, like discovering lands untouched by mankind, like the laughter of a newborn, like the arms of the sky had closed around me. And when her fingers found my hair, and mine her waist over the baggy tunic, I pulled her impossibly close, just to be sure she was real. 

And then, a voice I knew way too well interrupted. 

“Katara?” 

At first, I thought it came from the obscurity beside us, but then I realized, inside this obscurity, laid a house so small and cold I didn’t even notice it before. Within the house, the voice talked again, and I looked at Katara, trying to assure myself I was not the only one hearing it. She was as paralyzed as I was, her hands tense around my shoulders. 

“Sis? Is that you outside?” A loud thump, like he’d tripped over something, made us flinch, and before we could react, Sokka had turned on all the porch lights, caching us red handed. His jaw, dislocated by the impression as he stood by the now open door, couldn’t’ve been much more open than mine. 

And as things fell into place, I turned to Katara, still in my arms and just as surprised as I was, and saw as clear as ever the twisted coincidences I hadn’t before. She looked back at me, and despite the confusion in her eyes, I saw the lifted corners of her mouth and my shock turned into laughter. 

I saw right then, the masks that we had all worn that night. Mine, lying on the street, Katara’s, still hiding that enchanting sadness under her smile, Sokka’s partly ripped off the moment he came out that door and partly still on with the secret he shared with his sister. 

Stepping away from Katara, I slid my hand into hers. Her eyes compressed the eternity of the sea and had a written apology for the interruption, with slight indication of doubt. I had to control myself not to lean into her touch again, instead turning to Sokka. 

“Hello,” I said smiling, “I think I found your family issues.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me five days to write so I better not let you down or this is it for me and my writing ambitions.  
> What did you think?  
> I personally thought my ending was really bad but I've never been good at goodbyes so...

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @failedfirebender  
> Twitter: @failedfirebend1


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